


But it is Only You I Worship

by 123igottapee



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drabble, M/M, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:35:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/123igottapee/pseuds/123igottapee
Summary: Just a small little piece from the POV of Patroclus as he feels the love Achilles gives him.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	But it is Only You I Worship

**Author's Note:**

> I was just experimenting with this :) cause god I love the book so much, i just couldn't not do anything.

“Yes, I pray to the gods, but it is only you I worship,” He whispered, afraid that if he spoke too loud he would ruin the moment; it was all it took.

You press a chaste kiss to his lips before quickly pulling back, but not far enough so you couldn’t rest your forehead against his. You close your eyes to savour the moment, the kiss. It tastes sweet like the wine which lays at your feet, untouched and forgotten. You exhale slowly, your breaths mingle in the cool night air, creating puffs of white which disolved as soon as they manifested. 

You feel intoxicated even without alcohol.

This was all you have ever hoped for, still your expectations were exceeded. It makes you a bit dizzy causing you to sway like a leaf in the wind, but the boy—no, the man—makes sure to keep a steady hand at your back, anchoring you in his warm embrace. It was such a safe embrace, not even his mother, the goddess Thetis, would be able to break you apart.

“Patroclus,” he speaks your name with such gentleness and high regard as though it held the same weight as the holy words the priests often spoke during festivals to appease the gods. It made you feel so important and so loved. 

Oh gods, you truly loved Achilles.

You wished that Agamemnon never had decided to go to war against the Trojans. You wished Helen wasn’t the most beautiful woman to have existed. You wished she had never married Menelaus, only to be swept away by Paris. You would curse them all if you could, but it would only spoil this tender moment. You haven’t very many left. 

Your hatred lays now forgotten, your attention turns back to Achilles. You notice how not even the pale moonlight, under which you both stand, could wash away his golden shine. He truly was special. He was fit to be the son of a goddess. One would have never guessed he would have chosen you—back when you were both only young boys, or even now as you both are men. But he did. It was as if he was born to love only you, as though all of the fibers in his body were made only for your loving tender touches, your heated gazes, your...everything. 

He is yours as you are his.

Not even the gods, or fate, or even death could do you apart.


End file.
